


All the Synonyms of Anger

by skatefasteatgrass



Category: Heroes of Olympus - Fandom, Trials of Apollo - Fandom, percy jackson - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Big angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-03 12:47:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14569341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skatefasteatgrass/pseuds/skatefasteatgrass
Summary: He’s not angry;He’s furious.Because Jason Grace had so much left to see, to do.And he’ll never get to see or do ANY of it.





	All the Synonyms of Anger

**Author's Note:**

> what’s up lads it’s me, ya boy, uhhhhhhhh haven’t written fic for a very long time but have this I fuckin guess I dunno. if ya like jercy then give this a shot maybe???

Percy Jackson wasn’t angry.  
He was _furious_.  
Jason Grace wasn’t even an adult yet. He was _seventeen_. He was nowhere near at an appropriate age to die. He had so many things left to do, to see, to witness, to _experience_... and he’d never get to complete them. He was gone, in all the glory of the word. _Dead_ , and there wasn’t a soft way to put it. All because some unimportant, useless and hopeless demigod couldn’t see the enraged cyclops lumbering towards him. Some weak demigod, who Percy would never forgive for losing focus, for celebrating too soon, for forgetting they were in a war, not a child’s playground argument. Who, for one _foolish_ moment, believed everything was okay, that it was finally over. Who let down his guard and consequently let down Jason’s Grace, and there would never be anything he could do to make it up to him. Nothing was worth the same as the hero’s life; _nothing_.

  
With an enraged bellow of pure anguish and pain, Percy flung the sketchbook he’d been cradling against the cabin wall, either ignoring the tears that spilled down his cheeks, or simply not realising they were there. It wasn’t _fair_ \- Jason had fought in so many battles before! So many wars, so many attacks from enemies far worse than any cyclops! And now, because of one simple mistake, he was never going to come back. Death was permanent, as Nico had bitterly reminded everybody at the funeral, biting the inside of his mouth to prevent himself from crying.

Percy could remember every bit of pain etched into Nico’s face, evident in the scars and hard glare at the coffin. He remembered how silent he had been in the days following Jason’s death, refusing to talk to anybody, even Will. He remembered the sounds of echoing sobs that had rung through the night when Nico thought everybody was asleep, failing to realise that nobody could sleep peacefully now that Jason was gone. He remembered the piercing scream Nico had emitted when the cyclops’ dagger ran straight through Jason’s skull. He remembered it all _perfectly_.

  
Percy doubted he’d ever forget those things.

  
He doubted he’d ever forget the details of Jason’s death, so deeply embedded in his brain it was like another piece of him.  
Will had offered him some sort of memory soothing concoction, but Percy hadn’t cared for it. He didn’t know if it would make him forget Jason’s death altogether, and if it did, he definitely didn’t want it. Jason didn’t deserve to be forgotten like that. Will had promised him that the concoction would only make the memories easier, but even then, it seemed like it would be an insult to Jason to make the scene of his death an easy memory. Percy knew nobody deserved that. Then again, nobody deserved to die the way Jason had, least of all the son of Zeus, but here we were.  
Percy sunk into the corner of his cabin, feeling so small and alone. He buried his head in his arms, weeping in such a broken matter he prayed nobody should walk in to find him.

Jason Grace didn’t deserve what he got.

  
_Jason Grace didn’t deserve what he got._

* * *

 

”Percy, open this door or I swear to every god up there, I’ll tell Annabeth you’ve locked yourself up, and we’ll just see how fast she berates you.”

  
Oh, the hatred Percy felt for Nico di Angelo in that moment was _high_.

  
Nevertheless, he slumped to the door, and cracked it open.  
Nico looked significantly less terrible than he had a week previously, but still; not great. Next to him, Piper stood with her arms crossed, face still splotchy and red. Percy suspected she had been crying as much as he had, which led him to believe he looked as bad as she did, which was most definitely not an assurance. Behind both Piper and Nico, Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano looked as stoic as always, spare for her tousled hair that looked as though she’d stressfully run her fingers through it much more han necessary. Percy scowled, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

  
”Fuck off.”

  
Nico rolled his eyes.  
”Unbelievable.”  
”You didn’t love him like I did, Nico. You don’t need the mourning time I do. Don’t roll your eyes, don’t call me unbelievable, and kindly, fuck off.” Percy gripped the door handle, and moved to swing it shut, already too pissed off to deal with anything these people wanted to tell him. Nico had tried to comfort him before, and it worked about as well as if Thanatos himself had brought Jason’s lifeless corpse to Percy’s doorstep for ‘one last look’.  
”Jackson.” Reyna kicked her foot out and wedged it between the door and the frame, successfully getting her toes squished and stopping the door from closing. “Enough is enough. We know what you had with Jason was more than anything we had, but this has gone on for too long. You’ve grieved, and now you’re in the angry period of the mourning process. We get that. But it’s only going to feel a hundred times worse if you isolate yourself. You’ve barely eaten since Jason died, and you certainly haven’t socialised. Come out of your stupid little cave and let us help you.”  
Personally, Percy thought Reyna was being far too brash, but he said nothing. Piper cleared her throat.  
”Percy, Jason’s last words were ‘don’t let me wash away’. You know he meant he didn’t want to become lost in time. Do you really think ignoring the situation would help his last wish at all?”  
Percy’s brows knitted together, and still, he spoke no words. Mostly to keep his tears at bay. Again.   
He understood where they were coming from, but being cornered by three very powerful demigods when he was on his own was far, far too intimidating to really listen to them.   
“I’ll come out for dinner. Promise.” Percy rasped, then, ignoring the protests, kicked Reyna’s foot out of the way and slammed the door shut.

* * *

 

Sticking to his promise, Percy did indeed venture out for dinner. Feeling generous, he even sat with Nico and Thalia at the Zeus table instead of his own, going along with the new tradition of sitting with the remaining Big Three Kids. Nico glanced up as he fell into his chair, staring silently and solemnly ahead.  
“Jackson.” Thalia greeted him through gritted teeth, obviously trying not to piss him off any more than he already was.  
Wow. A warm welcome. Though to be fair, he was her brother.  
“Gra- Thalia.” He’d tried to counter her welcome, but saying his last name was too painful. Tormenting.  
He couldn’t do it.  
“Would you happen to know where Jason’s old sketchbook of the new-New Rome he was designing went, Percy?” Thalia set down her fork. Percy glanced down at her dinner; untouched and cold. She was still barely eating.  
Then, Percy registered the question, and groaned inwardly. Yeah, he knew where the sketchbook was. He’d thrown it at a wall earlier that week out of anger.  
“Not a clue,” he lied, stabbing his potatoes with his fork like it could bring Jason back. Thalia narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth to speak, but Nico interrupted her by clearing his throat louder than the average human should usually clear their throat.  
“Okay, moving right along. We’re addressing the elephant in the room right now. I’m sick of both of you avoiding the topic and holing up on your own in your cabins. Talk to each other, talk to me. Jason Grace.”  
“Nico,” Percy muttered in warning, already feeling the muscles behind his eyes contorting to hold back salty tears.  
“Enough is enough. Jason’s dead, death is permanent, and dealing with this on your own is not going to help at all.”  
“Di Angelo, shut your trap, before I shut it _for_ you.” Thalia’s fists clenched on the table, her knuckles turning white. Nico set his jaw.  
“He didn’t want you guys to keep to yourselves, he wanted to be remembered by everybody. Don’t you think it’d be better to discuss it with each other?” Nico held up his hands and closed his palms, a sign to be quiet I’m explaining in front of Thalia and Percy’s faces. “I know it’s hard. Believe me, I know. Losing a sibling... losing somebody you love...” Nico’s voice cracked and wobbled. “I get it. Bianca’s death did this to me, too. But both of you know how I reacted, and how big of a mistake it was. So- stop avoiding it. Talk.”  
For the longest time, neither Percy nor Thalia spoke a word, afraid of what the conversation might turn into. The people around them talked in low voices, as if they didn’t want to interrupt. Percy couldn’t help but feel angry at Nico for trying this, even though he was just doing his best.  
Finally, Thalia took a shaky breath and started talking.  
“I’m sorry, Neeks. I didn’t mean to be so closed off. I don’t think Jackson here did, either. And you’re right; we should know better. But he was halfway through his project. I’d only just met him again.”  
“We’d only just started dating,” Percy muttered, feeling the rawness of his voice in his throat. “Annabeth has only just called it off. I was healing. He helped. And then he was gone.”  
“I know. I’m sorry, Percy. You too, Thalia.” Nico traced a grain of wood with his thumb. “But being angry at everybody’s not going to help.”  
A very, very uncomfortable silence fell between the three of them. At that moment, Will Solace chose to slip in next to Nico, wrapping an arm around his waist and observing the awkwardness in the air.  
“Uh...” Will’s face bloomed pink. “Bad timing?”  
“We were talking about Jason,” Thalia hissed, glaring at her plate. Will pursed his lips.  
“Right. Touchy subject. Well... just to add something of my own opinion... maybe dinner isn’t the best time to discuss something like that. But the infirmary’s empty tonight, and we have hot drinks, so if any of you want to come have a little therapy session away from PRYING EARS.” Will said the last bit loud enough so that Kayla Knowles, Austin Lake and Bellisa Mardine from his own table immediately went back into conversation. “Arms are open.”  
Percy had never been more thankful for Will’s good ideas and presence itself. He seemed to calm anybody he spoke to. Thalia’s tense shoulders dropped and relaxed a little. Percy himself felt more at ease. Even Nico was settling into Will’s side, which shouldn’t have been surprising, and just went to show how far Percy had distanced himself from his friends.  
“Thank you, Will,” Percy said quietly. “Means a lot.”  
Will smiled sadly.  
“Best I can do, since I couldn’t save him.”

* * *

 

After a fair while of pacing and thinking, carding through Jason’s sketchbook and staring emptily at it for a couple of hours, Percy decided he’d take up Will’s offer. Maybe Piper would be there; she and Will were good friends. Maybe he could talk to her for a bit. She had that same, easy-going, calm aura that relaxed him.  
Crossing the camp in the semi-darkness of late dusk, Percy ignored the warning glares of Dionysus and Chiron, and opened the door to the Big House, navigating to the infirmary. Inside, Will was rolling up bandages with tired eyes and slow hands, like he was too exhausted to go any faster. Nico lied on his back in an empty bed, humming a familiar song quietly. Before Percy could announce his presence, Nico stopped abruptly, and, without opening his eyes, asked a question that jarred Percy more than he cared to admit.

  
“Do you think Jason knew?”  
Percy tiptoed backwards, hiding behind the doorframe. He could introduce himself soon.  
Will scoffed softly, pausing to rub his eyes.  
“Knew he was going to die?”  
“Yeah.”  
“How could he have known? There wasn’t a prophecy.” Will reached up to grab a roll of gauze. “Jason... his death was untimely. Obviously. And none of us could stop it.”  
“I think Percy might blame himself.” Nico opened his eyes and sat up, tucking his knees up to his chest. “I heard him mumbling while you were healing him. Talking about how he could never forgive himself for losing focus. Celebrating too early.”  
Percy’s heart plummeted to his feet.

  
_Fuck._

  
Will finished packing away the medical tools, turned around, and sat next to Nico, pulling him into a comfortable-looking side hug. Percy ached to feel that again, the way Jason used to embrace him from the side, the way Percy would curl into him, craving his warmth and smell of burning pine.  
“I think he might, too. And you? I know you watched it happen. And I know you have a tendency to beat yourself up over things you can’t control.”  
Percy watched Nico tense up, before melting back into Will, his arms sneaking around his neck.  
“Yeah. A little. But... I’m getting better at not blaming myself so much. What about you, Solace? Have you been calling yourself at fault because you couldn’t save him?”  
“Obviously. I always beat myself up over that shit. But I’ll get over it. I’m worried about Perce, like you. He’s... too angry.”  
Nico mumbled something Percy couldn’t hear, and the conversation halted to a stop. Percy counted to ten, then slowly pushed the door open.  
“Hey, Will. Nico.” He scratched the nape of his neck. Nico broke off from Will and stood up quickly, face reddening by the second. Will turned to face the door, trying for a smile.  
“Hey, Perce.” He patted the bed across for him. “Come sit down. Thalia’s coming soon. So’s Piper.”  
Percy didn’t pay too much attention to anything that evening. He couldn’t. His mind kept looping back the memory of Jason’s head getting impaled.

He was beyond angry at himself; _furious_ , in fact. He was never going to forgive himself for letting down his guard too early, for being too weak, for losing focus too soon. Because of him, Jason Grace was dead. And as Nico continuously reminded him, death was a very permanent thing.

Percy could probably come up with a hundred more synonyms for anger, the feeling he kept berating himself with, but his mind was too numb and in denial too think clearly.

 _Fuck you_ , he told himself, angrily wiping his eyes. _Fuck you for letting him die._

_Fuck you._

 

**Author's Note:**

> ummmmmm yeah I’ll get back into the groove of this soon. if there are spelling mistakes, just... ignore them. don’t be THAT guy, you don’t need to point out my careless mistakes. constructive criticism is great! but...... spelling mistakes are petty. thank you, my children. expect some good ass pipabeth shit in a week or so.


End file.
